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Ceremonial Expenses as Relational Saving:
The limitations of new financial technologies in mobilizing
saving
Final Report, September 2016
Isabelle Guérin, IRD-‐Cessma and French Institute of Pondicherry
G. Venkatasubramanian, French Institute of Pondicherry
Santosh Kumar, French Institute of Pondicherry
Abstract
Many initiatives aim to help the poor to save cash, in an echo of long-‐standing concerns. New
technologies, harnessed to the lessons of behavioural economics, offer diverse unmediated tools for
depositing savings. These so-‐called financial innovations have not always brought about the results
expected, however. This paper draws on an ethnography from southern India to highlight the
contradictions between unmediated saving and relational saving, defined as saving transactions that
are both shaped by and constitutive of social relations. In the context studied here, ceremonial
expenses are major forms of relational saving. Unlike unmediated saving, they operate over the long
term, on various scales and serve multiple purposes. They allow for the accumulation of lump sums
in order to organise large events. But they also ensure the reproduction of the social group (and set
the definitions of its reproduction). And they not only express, but also transform, strengthen or
bypass pre-‐existing social and interdependency relations, or even create new ones. They are
embedded within multiple, overlapping ties of hierarchy and obligation, but also within emotional,
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unique relationships. The design of innovative financial tools should take inspiration from relational
saving, rather than ignoring it.
Helping the poor to save has been for long a concern of governments, activists and philanthropists,
and sometimes governments. There have been many attempts across the history of European
industrialisation and colonisation by women's health auxiliaries, social workers, Christian
missionaries, and sometimes unionists, to introduce a culture of saving among the poor. This has
included home economics education and various techniques such as saving groups and piggy banks.
This concern is greater than ever, especially in the developing world. In the absence of a public health
system and social security, as is the case in many developing countries, saving can help the poor to
cope with risk and emergencies (Morduch and Sharma, 2002). It can also help them to better plan for
the future, whether for life cycle and ritual events, education, housing or economic investments
(Collins et al., 2009). Unlike microcredit, it cannot draw people into vicious cycles of over-‐
indebtedness (Guérin, Morvant-‐Roux and Villarreal, 2013: 301-‐2). Though the idea is not new, there
has been renewed interest in saving, which is often seen as microfinance's 'forgotten other half' at a
time when hopes for microcredit are being thwarted.
At the same time practitioners and their advisers – mostly economists -‐ have made significant
progress in the attempt to understand the multiplicity and the complexity of pre-‐existing saving
practices. It is now widely known that the poor save. The focus is less to encourage saving than to
improve available tools and better support people’s existing practices. Echoing longstanding
anthropological work, the book Portfolio of the Poor, which has been widely disseminated within the
microfinance community, sheds light on the diverse existing saving strategies and points out several
paths to improvement, especially the need for reliable, convenient, and flexible products (Collins et
al. 2009). Over the last decade, new technologies and the explosion of mobile phone usage has made
it possible to design unmediated saving tools that, it seems, meet the above criteria. Directly paying
social transactions into bank accounts has been seen as another potential saving incentive.
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Behavioural economics, which is very much in fashion in the development world, has equally
considered the cognitive biases that can limit the propensity to saving. Various ruses and prompts
are suggested to overcome such biases, such as "commitment accounts", mobile phone reminder
messages, basic financial education and so forth (Karlan et al. 2014).
We call however for making further efforts to really grasp the meaning and scope of popular saving
practices. This requires redefining the term ‘saving’ in the light of economic anthropology. Storing,
accumulating and circulating value largely takes place through what we define as relational saving,
namely saving transactions that are both shaped by and constitutive of social relations. In the context
of this study (rural Tamil Nadu), ceremonial expenses are important forms of relational saving. Unlike
unmediated saving, they operate over the long term, on various scales and serve multiple purposes.
They allow for the accumulation of lump sums in order to organise large events. But they also ensure
the reproduction of the social group (and the definitions of its reproduction). And they not only
express but also transform, strengthen or bypass pre-‐existing social and interdependency relations,
or even create new ones. They are embedded within multiple, overlapping ties of hierarchy and
obligation, but also within emotional, unique relationships. Our purpose is not to romanticize these
practices, which are both shaped by and constitutive of various forms of inequalities, especially
related to caste and gender, but to highlight the set of norms and rules that have an impact on
behaviours, ideas and aspirations.
The first and second sections present the concept and context of relational saving. The later sections
focus on ceremonial expenses and analyse them as relational (and long-‐term) saving in which
material, social and emotional aspects are interwoven.
Relational saving
The concept of relational saving is closely linked to that of “relational economy” or “relational work”
(Zelizer 2012). This argues that economic transactions are not only embedded within social networks
but that they are fundamentally social interactions. As Zelizer argues, “in all areas of economic life
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people are creating, maintaining, symbolizing, and transforming meaningful social relations” (Zelizer
2012: 149). Zelizer uses the concept of relational work to explain monetary differentiation and
practices of money earmarking. People consistently differentiate their money in order to match up
monetary transactions to their social relations. In deprived contexts, the idea of the relational
economy also highlights that economic activity should be understood not only as productive and
income generating, but as a reproductive activity to sustain household survival, dignity and
respectability (Neves and du Toit 2012).
We argue that relational saving as an idea can enrich our understanding of the relational economy.
'Saving' is far from straightforward as a term because in many cases, the distinction between
expenses, investments, consumption and saving is unclear (Douglas and Isherwood 1980). In
anthropological terminology, it would make more sense to talk about practices of storing,
accumulating and circulating value. We keep the term saving, however, in order to contribute to the
financial inclusion debate. It is our belief that anthropology is too often absent from these debates to
which it has a lot to contribute.
Economic theory often distinguishes between precautionary saving (to smooth consumption or cope
with negative income shocks), and investment saving (to maximize expected future consumption
through the gradual accumulation of small sums). Following Rosenzweig (2001), most economic
studies have considered the poor to be in essence incapable of making long-‐term considerations,
since short-‐term survival is their primary concern. It is assumed that precautionary saving would be
the most common form of saving, with investment saving inexistent. Looking at the relational
dimension of saving sheds light on new temporalities and unexpected forms of saving. We use the
term 'saving' because these transactions allow for the gradual accumulation of lump sums, but they
are first and foremost social transactions insofar as their primary function is to express, symbolise,
maintain, transform or create social relations.
This paper's main argument is that ceremonial expenses are major forms of relational saving that
play a crucial role in households’ reproduction, both economically (helping to accumulate lump sums
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and smooth expenses and income over time) and socially (helping to maintain or possibly strengthen
family’s statuses and reputations). All the people in our study, as individuals or through their
household, kinship and various social circles, are embedded within complex webs of debts and
entitlements related to ceremonial transactions. Following the classic pattern of the gift, people
regularly contribute to ceremonies in their circles, which are subsequently reciprocated at their own
ceremonies. Return gifts do not strictly follow rules of equivalency, but rather are subtle calculations
based on issues of reciprocity, obligation and status, as well as emotions and sentiments. This makes
them fundamentally different from unmediated saving practices. But looking at ceremonial expenses
as saving demands a wider vision of saving than in usual economic analysis.
As we shall see throughout this paper, ceremonial saving does not take place on the individual level
but through larger, variable units based on events and circumstances. This is sometimes the
household, sometimes the lineage or a fraction of it (given that definitions of household and lineage
are malleable and in constant reconfiguration). Saving is not limited to residual, unspent income: it
operates over the long term, but mostly on a generational level (and not only the life cycle of one
particular person). It primarily works towards various interwoven objectives. The material and
immaterial are not separate, but co-‐constitutive. It is thus a 'multi-‐purpose' saving, to echo the
Polanyian idea of 'multiple-‐purpose money'.
In so doing, and following Guyer’s suggestion (Guyer 1997), we hope to contribute to two
interrelated but unfortunately disconnected research fields: the 'anthropology of wealth' and the
'economics of saving and insurance'. The dynamics presented here illustrate a process that has been
widely documented since the pioneering work of Mauss and Malinowski on the role of gifts in social
and political ties and further work on "investment in people" (Berry 1989). While anthropologists
familiar with the social, cultural and symbolic dimension of wealth know this well, we believe they
can still learn from the material dimension of exchanges that anthropology often downplays.
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Context
This paper's findings are part of a of long-‐term research program on labour and finance in two
districts (Villipuram and Cuddalore) of north and coastal rural Tamil Nadu, southern India. This
particular research project, funded by IMTFI, allowed us to explore in more detail the use of a recent
financial inclusion program which has involved channelling social payments through bank accounts in
order to promote saving deposits. Ethnography was combined with a longitudinal household survey1.
The region is economically dynamic. It features a large proportion of irrigated agriculture, two
industrial towns (Neyveli and Cuddalore) and a regional business centre (Panruti). As elsewhere in
Tamil Nadu and India, caste remains a fundamental factor in social, economic, ritualistic and political
life. Caste here is inherited through one’s birth group. It is characterized by endogamy, the rules of
commensality and hierarchy. The latter is still associated with ritual dirt and pollution. Vanniyars and
Paraiyars are the two major local groups across the region. Vanniyars are a farming caste with a low
ritual rank, but in the villages we studied, as in many places in northeast Tamil Nadu, they control
much of the land and are politically dominant.2 Paraiyars are one of the three major Dalit (ex-‐
untouchable) communities in Tamil Nadu. They are particularly well-‐established in the north of the
state. There are also a few Arunthathiyars among the Dalits. The upper castes of the local hierarchy
are the Mudaliyars, Naidus, Reddiyars and Settus, who account for only a small proportion of the
village population. Christians and Muslims are a minority in the area.
The region has seen many changes over the past three decades. Upper castes have mostly moved
away from the villages to nearby towns, adopting urban jobs and lifestyles, and selling a large
proportion of their land to Vanniyars. Overall, upper castes still have a hold on village life but are not
1 405 households surveyed in 2010 and again in 2016. Households distributed across ten villages in northern coastal rural Tamil Nadu on the border of the two districts, Villupuram and Cuddalore. Households and villages were randomly selected, using a stratified sample based on caste and location in terms of water availability and distance to town. 2 There are also a few Gramanis, Navithars, Nattars, Kulalars and Asarais, who have a similar position in the caste hierarchy.
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as powerful as they used to be. Land transfers to Vanniyars largely explain why they are now
dominant. As for Dalits, their situation has been improving, albeit to varying degrees from village to
village, thanks to the combination of short term migration to nearby towns and industrial centres,
and governmental schemes (reflected by subsidized housing, food, education and so fourth).
As in many other contexts, saving among the poor has long been raising public interest. Many reports
from the British period emphasized the inability of the poor to plan for the future, their
improvidence and extravagance. Debt was seen as their only financial strategy (Pouchepadass 1980).
In the region we studied, there were reports of Christian missionary attempts in the 1930s to create
saving groups, but they were rapid failures (Cederlof 1997). Since independence and up to the
contemporary period, there has been a succession of many policies and programmes. Saving deposits
were often a secondary objective (the priority is given to modernising agriculture and diversifying
rural economies) and limited to well-‐off farmers (through rural cooperatives). As the poor were
thought to lack any potential to save, the focus has been on 'productive' credit, with the idea of
helping them generate income and acquire assets. In the 1990s the Indian model of Self-‐Help-‐Groups
(SHG) emerged in reaction against the microcredit wave. It was based on the 'saving first' principle.
Groups are made eligible for microcredit after proving their ability to marshal their members and to
circulate savings within the group. Although the SHG program became the biggest women's
microcredit program worldwide over two decades (at its peak in 2009, 1.6 million groups were being
financed, mostly consisting of women's groups), the savings element has been much less of a
success. Most women in fact only save the minimum necessary to be eligible for credit.
A series of financial inclusion programs has strengthened the focus on saving since 2005. A Reserve
Bank of India Report concluded that “developing a culture of saving among large segments of rural
population […] is a pillar of the financial inclusion agenda" (RBI, 2013: 3). Two main measures were
intended to incentivise saving through bank deposits. The first was to bring banking services to
people’s doorsteps through 'business correspondents' (non-‐bank agents who travel from village to
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village)3 and new technologies for digital transactions in villages. The second measure was direct
payment of social transfers (which can be a high share of poor Indian household incomes) into bank
accounts. In Tamil Nadu, the region we studied, households no longer have a choice. Eligibility for
welfare schemes requires a bank account into which social transfers are transferred.
In 2016, twelve years after the launch of 'Pradhan Mantri Jhan Dhan Yojana', the first financial
inclusion public program, and four years on from current prime minister Narendra Modi's
announcement of the plan to “eradicate financial untouchability”4, the 'culture of saving' Indian
policy makers were seeking has yet to emerge. Bancarisation has made enormous progress. As of
21.9.2016, 246 million accounts had been opened, of which 151 million were classified as rural5. In
our field area, bank account take-‐up was already widespread in 2010, with 91.2% households having
a bank account. By 2016, take-‐up had risen to an even higher 97.5%. Achievements in terms of saving
deposits however are less convincing. The median amount is unchanged (around 600 INR) and the
average amount had even decreased (from 4470 INR to 2043 INR). Most bank accounts are in fact
‘dormant’ and mostly used as a conduit for social transfers.
We were frequently told that bank deposits were “useless”. People were clear that informal saving
made more sense, both socially and financially. Gold, in particular, meets a much higher demand for
storing value than keeping money in a bank account. As in 2010, gold is still the most important form
of saving. Most households own gold (95.7%) at an average weight of 52.2 grams, for an average
value of 155,653 INR (76 times more than the average value of bank deposits).
3 For more details see Nithyananda and Fouillet 2015 4 Quoted in Hindu Business Line, 2014. 5 Data available on http://pmjdy.gov.in/account.
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Graph 1. Saving Value (INR)
Source: Authors (2016 household survey)
How can we explain this? Our data offer various possible explanations.
Firstly, our study reveals a serious lack of trust in banks. Saving with someone demands pre-‐
established trust, which remains in short supply. Technical failures are a first explanation for this,
including poor fingerprint authentications, bad internet connections, low battery charges, machine
failures and poor maintenance, inadequate information transfers between administrative services
and banks, limited amounts, insufficient cash flows or even absent business correspondents. Such
distrust is reinforced by the real or imaginary misuse of bank information, for instance to pinpoint
'below poverty line' households (people fear that saving deposits may make them lose this
administrative status and their eligibility to numerous welfare schemes), or sanctions in the event of
a loan default. The evidence shows that some bankers do use bank payments to recover SHG
members' past dues.
Gender and caste barriers are another obstacle, both in terms of the bank and correspondents.
Bankers are by and large neither equipped nor willing to deal with poor rural women and many
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women feel denigrated, especially when they are Dalits. They feel they are treated as “goats” or
“dogs”, as we heard many times. As far as caste is concerned, business correspondents operating on
the village level raises numerous conflicts, since there is still considerable spatial segmentation along
caste lines. Non-‐Dalit business correspondents may not visit Dalit places and conversely, Dalit
business correspondents may not be allowed to visit non-‐Dalit places. The lack of anonymity is
another constraint as transactions are most often made in public. This is poorly compatible with
current saving practices, where discretion and anonymity are the prevailing protection against
constant, often untimely requests from close circles.
A second, closely related factor is the 'comparative advantage' of prevailing informal saving practices,
to quote the economists. We have discussed elsewhere the social, cultural and political factors for
the persistence of informal saving, particularly in gold (Villarreal and Guérin, 2013; Goedecke, Guérin,
D’Espallier and Venkatasubramanian, forthcoming; see also Joseph, 2015). It is less common to
consider ceremonies as saving, as we propose here.
Ceremonies as Relational and Long-‐term Saving
In Tamil Nadu as elsewhere in India, social and religious rituals are an essential part of social, cultural
and political, but also economic life. Rituals are from a residue of 'tradition' but constantly renewed
and reinvented, with strongly contextual specificities and homogenisation processes. It is an ongoing
question as to whether rituals and ceremonies reproduce inequalities and hierarchies, or conversely
open up spaces of resistance and political contestation. Dominant groups have long used debt for
rituals as a strategy for domination and this still continues today. But the reality is now more complex
with the (relative) upward mobility of some low groups and the growing influence of consumerism. In
rural Tamil Nadu, the reappropriation of rituals, whether in terms of meaning or funding, is a
powerful tool for asserting individual and collective identities, especially among Dalits (Tarabout
1993). Notwithstanding land conflicts, ceremonies are a constant opportunity for rivalry and
competition between Vanniyars and Dalits. At the same time, some dominant group rituals continue
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to spread. This is the case of the dowry, a Brahmin practice which many social groups have adopted
in recent years, and around the 1960s in Tamil Nadu (Kapadia 1996). The prevalence of the dowry is
often presented, perceived and upheld, as pre-‐mortem compensation for non-‐access to inheritance
for girls, including by the women themselves. Although generous dowries certainly boost the social
standing of households, clans and the women themselves in their community (much less than it
being material protection for the women, as it is most often appropriated by in-‐laws), it is obviously a
symptom of – and a powerful tool of – growing patriarchy.
In the context of our study, and at the household level6, the most common ceremonies include
children’s weddings, girls’ puberty, funerals and more recently, first birthdays (mostly for boys) and
housewarmings. Children’s weddings are the most important events in terms of amount, which vary
according to social group. For Dalits, typical amounts in the region now range from three to six lakhs
(300,000 to 600,000 INR), which on average amounts to four to eight years of household income.
These amounts have risen considerably over recent decades and include the cost of the cerebration,
gifts to close relatives and the dowry.
Families usually keep one notebook per event (see photograph below as an example), with a list of
the givers specifying their names, location and the amount of their gift, which can be in cash or in
kind, mostly gold, clothes, vessels and food7. Gifts in kind are restricted to relatives (exceptionally
close friends may give gold). When given in gold, the unit of measure is the weight (see photograph
1). When given in cash (the most common form of gift), amounts are usually not rounded up and end
in one (101 rupees, 501 rupees, etc., see photograph 2) and this symbolises continuity in the relation.
The example below is an extract from a notebook for a housewarming. The book lists 283 givers, of
which 25 are given below.
6 Religious festivals related to temples and specific divinities are another crucial component of rituals. Their funding also follows complicated rules on the community level, which we will not cover here. 7 We refer here to the gifts offered by the guests, and not the dowry, which includes a specific list of items.
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Photograph 1. A notebook for a puberty ceremony
Source: Venkatasubramanian, 2015
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Photograph 2. A notebook for a housewarming
Source: Isabelle Guérin, 2015
Only the organisers of the events – who accept the gifts on the day of the ceremony – keep detailed
accounts. Givers usually stick to mental accounting. Usually a member of each family, most often a
woman, is in charge of remembering the family record, which can be traced back over several
generations. In this, one finds here a number of techniques close to those Yates identified (1966) for
constructing an oral memory. The women told us that they keep precise images of people, events
and locations. Whenever they meet someone from a particular family, the memory of the
transaction comes up in their mind. Any discussion on this particular family is also an opportunity to
remember. When transactions cause tension or conflict, as is often the case as we shall see below,
recalling them repeatedly also helps to fix the memory. It may happen that the giver keeps a written
trace of his or her own gifts (a note on a calendar, a chalk mark on the wall). Organisers also often
tick off lines on their notebook once the gift has been given back.
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As Dowdy (2014) has noted, very little attention has unfortunately been paid to accounting practices
among the poor, as if poverty, by essence, were incompatible with accounting. And yet these events,
and the notebooks that go with them, play a key role in family calculations, long-‐term planning and
saving strategies, for various reasons. First of all, and as observed in other contexts8, these events are
concrete opportunities to display and make visible the status (mariyatai) of the family. Ceremonies,
insofar as they gather the whole set of relations of individuals and their families, and insofar as they
are in great part funded by this same set of relations, express one’s mariyatai and contribute to
building it. The scale of the ceremony is evaluated in terms of guest numbers, their ‘quality’, the
quality of food provided, and the gifts received: all this aims at maintaining, possibly uplifting or at
least not downgrading the organisers’ mariyatai (and that of their respective kin).
The scale of the ceremony mostly depends on two criteria9. The scale of ceremonies recently
organised within the close circle (kinship and neighbourhood) are a first benchmark. Doing less
amounts to a downgrade in terms of honour. Doing better, even very slightly, is usually what is
expected. At the same time, one is supposed to organise an event within one’s financial and human
resources. Human resources are needed to help with the preparation of the food, service and
cleaning – the events usually bring together several hundred guests who must be welcomed, fed and
sometimes accommodated. Financial resources depend on available savings (has the family been
able to accumulate gold, possibly land that can be offered, sold or pledged?), borrowing capacities
(how much can the family borrow and what is its creditworthiness in the eyes of potential creditors?)
Last but not least, how much can be expected from the guests in gifts (moi)? The moi pannam (the
sum of donations offered at the time of the event) most often represents a substantial proportion of
ceremony expenses, or even more. In fact, aside from daughters’ weddings which always lead to a
'loss' due to the dowry, every ceremony is expected to lead to a surplus, a ‘profit’, as we were often
told (the English term is frequently used). In fact, the moi pannam is the 'knot' of the event, its pillar.
8 See for instance Mesfin (2012). 9 For a similar analysis in Ethiopia, see Mesfin (2012).
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In other words, ceremonies are a kind of bet on the generosity of their social circle (both in money
and in time), which in turn depends on the obligations the organisers have accrued over the years.
For funerals, guests are expected to provide rice and cooking items, which should then be returned in
a timely fashion.
Given the social importance of ceremonies and the amounts they involve, but also their place in a
long chain of rights and obligations and financial transactions, they are thus at the core of family
calculations. As we were told once, each event “is a link to the past, the present and the future”. It is
an opportunity to show “the strength of your family and relatives” as we were also told, but the
strength in question is a process: each event updates prior relations and prefigures upcoming
relations. Calculations and evaluations take place before the event and help the organisers to plan
ahead. Calculations and evaluations also occur after the event: each gift (and his/her donator) is
evaluated, valued, and judged (in short, is it in line with expectations?).
To return to saving, the wide set of debts and entitlements that are contracted through ceremonies
is thus a crucial aspect of a given household's financial position. As in many other contexts (Peebles
2010), most households are both debtors and creditors, not only for small-‐scale daily transactions10,
but on a long-‐term basis and for high scale transactions. Depending upon their position within their
life-‐cycle, but also the nature of their social network and particular circumstances, households are
net debtors or net creditors. Using the words of Rutherford (2001), some households “save up” (they
slowly accumulate through regular donations and then organise their own event, see fig. 1 below),
“save down” (they organise an event and then pay back slowly) or “save through” (a mix of the two).
Fig. 1 below shows a household which has regularly saved since marriage in 2005 by making regular
donations to its social circle, and getting this partly back for the daughter's puberty marriage.
10 As shown by Rutherford (2001) and later on Collins et al. (2009), see also Morvant-‐Roux (2006).
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Fig. 1. Ceremonies as 'saving up'
Source: Authors
Parents with unmarried daughters most often "save down". Sivakumar is a typical example. He first
organised the puberty ceremony of his daughter. This allowed him to collect 13 sovereigns11 of gold
which he put aside for her future marriage. He may have to pledge them regularly for various needs
and hope he won’t lose them. He will “pay back" (this is the term used) in around ten years, roughly
at the time of his daughter’s marriage for which he will go back into debt for many years.
Calculations and equivalences
There is no strict equivalency between savings given and received, and gifts and counter-‐gifts. The
amounts result from subtle calculations. Here, one finds the various modes of economic exchange –
reciprocity, redistribution, sometimes market logic – but these hardly operate in isolation from social
relations, both for the group's social reproduction (the size and definition of which is permanently
negotiated) and on the level of individual, specific relations.
• Reciprocity
For friends, colleagues and distant relatives, amounts (in cash) or weight (in gold) are systematically
compared with how much has previously been given and received: in brief, how much do I owe the
11 One sovereign is equal to around 8 grams of gold. It is the most common unit of measurement of gold in the region.
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organiser at the time of ceremony? Reciprocity is both specific (calculated for one particular event)
and global (on the scale of the entire chain of exchanges between families). While calculations
distinguish between various forms of ceremonies – one may not give the same amount for a
housewarming than a marriage – the total value of exchanges between two families can be taken
into account. For instance, someone who has had several children get married may give more to a
housewarming ceremony organised by someone who has few or no children. In the same vein,
calculations may include other forms of exchanges with the organiser besides ceremonies, such as
loans or favours received or offered. Such compensation is limited however, because it is not made
public, while ceremonial reciprocity must be public.
• Redistribution
Transactions with close relatives relate to specific obligations. Within the kinship for instance, elder
brothers and maternal uncles are expected to take on important responsibilities in the marriages of
their younger brothers or sisters and nieces. Patrons (big landowners, employers, possibly local
politicians) are also expected to help significantly (through gifts or loans), although this is on the
decline. In return, kinship and working relations are not something people have but something they
do, and ceremonies are instrumental in this process. Maternal uncles gain their status of maternal
uncles because they organise their nieces' marriages. Patrons gain their status of patron (or used to)
partly because they help their workers or voters to hold their ceremonies.
• Social reproduction
As mentioned above, the status of the family is the defining issue. Reputations are formed and
reformed at the time of ceremonies, but through a long-‐term process, since each event gets a
meaning only by recalling past events and by projecting future ones, over various timeframes. For
instance, a puberty ceremony is a preview of a marriage. Comparing marriages of daughters,
mothers and grandmothers is used to assess or deny the upward mobility of the lineage.
• Social transactions
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Far beyond strict and fixed rules of rights and obligations, all transactions are first and foremost
social relations, whether based on solidarity or hierarchy. Closeness is hardly a given, but facilitated
by various forms of social ties such as kinship, neighbourhood, work, politics, etc. But their intensity
is based on emotional ties such as affection, friendship or love. Gifts are used to express the intensity
of the bonds and the willingness to continue the relationship. Giving much more (or less) than what
was given in the past is a clear signal that the relation should continue (or stop). One person may give
more out of gratitude or pity; another may give less out of vengeance or humiliation. In the same
vein, obligations are not dictated by tradition but constantly negotiated. Couples who leave the
extended family to live in their own house are often accused of selfishness and are a typical case:
they must show solidarity and are expected to give much more than if they had remained with the
group. The same applies for hierarchical relations. The social positioning between giver and receiver
certainly depends on social belonging and hierarchical ties based on class, caste, kinship and gender,
but also on specific relations and aspirations. Those wanting to show their superiority must give
more. Comparison is crucial here, since giving less than people from the same rank would be
degrading. Comparisons are made at many levels, between the male and the female branch of one
particular family, between sisters-‐in-‐law or between sisters, neighbours or colleagues, dominant
families within a neighbourhood, close neighbourhoods or castes. Women’s status among their in-‐
laws is in greatly shaped by how much was given for their marriage (the famous dowry), as are
rivalries between women, although this doesn't rule out solidarity.
In the same vein, receivers evaluate gifts according to diverse criteria. The financial value of the gift
matters, but so to does the human and moral support given throughout the event, from the first
preparations to cleaning-‐up. As we were often told, there are those who come, eat, and leave, and
those who stay from morning to evening, always ready to help. There are those who approve,
encourage and congratulate, and those who disapprove, complain and criticize. The meaning of each
transaction is affected by pre-‐existing social relations, which in turn may be strengthened or
modified. In other words, transactions make the relations. Relations are both constitutive of and
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shaped by ceremonial transactions. As Zelizer (1994) has shown at length elsewhere, money and
social ties are closely interwoven. Even if people regularly complain about the fact that ceremonies
are now a “business” – and indeed the sums of money involved are astonishing, the way people
experience, understand and comment on these events clearly shows the pre-‐eminence of social
relations, as we shall see in the next section.
Because there is no strict equivalency, amounts received may differ widely from expectations. As
mentioned earlier, people largely plan the scope and the cost of a ceremony by taking into account
how much they expect as gifts. Calculations always have an element of uncertainty (guests may give
less than expected) and risk (an important gift may never be reciprocated). And since exchanges take
place in an interrupted chain of gifts and counter-‐gifts, disappointments (guests have given less than
expected) may be counterbalanced by the hope of future reciprocity. As mentioned above,
transactions are shaped by but also constitutive of relations, by eliciting recognition and gratitude, or
conversely disappointment, jealousy. In the event of tensions or conflicts, notebooks can be used as
public proof for the local authorities. They may also be used as a proof for in-‐laws (for instance in the
event of divorce and to get back the dowry) or even for children in case they complain they got little
support.
Events unrelated to the life cycle, such as birthdays or housewarmings, can be used to compensate
for 'losses' or even cash flow problems. We encountered a number of households who felt they had
been cheated and organised a birthday or a housewarming with the hope of getting back their dues.
In theory, transactions take place in distinct exchange spheres – a gift for a wedding should be
reciprocated for another wedding -‐ and are thus non fungible. In practice however, and as already
mentioned earlier, getting back one’s due (or not plunging in over-‐indebtedness) is a constant
concern and this leads to a relative fungibility of exchanges and a certain form of market logic (on
this see also Cattelino 2009).
20
In the same vein, organising ceremonies with the idea of paying back a debt is rather frequent. Graph
2 illustrates such a calculation with a woman called Parvathi, and her husband, heavily indebted for
the renovation of their house. They organised a housewarming to pay off part of the debt. Gifts to
others in the past amounted to around 136000 INR, while they received 69300. This made them “net
creditors” for 66550 INR, distributed among various circles (distant relatives, close relatives, friends
and colleagues). They were disappointed, but hope to get more for the marriage of their son in the
future. Our graph gives precise figures while Parvathi’s calculations are rough estimates based on
mental arithmetic. It is interesting to note however that in all our case studies, both estimations
were very similar.
Graph 2. Gifts given and received (housewarming ceremony)
Source: Authors
Emotional calculations
There is no doubt that ceremonial expenses involve subtle financial calculations, which are often very
precise and on various scales, whether it be short term relations with colleagues or decisions for
children's futures. Future plans and forthcoming events are thus crucial. People planning to organise
an event may be more generous on purpose in the preceding year. Many women clearly explained
0
20000
40000
60000
80000
100000
120000
140000
160000
close relatves
distant relatves
friends neigbhours workplace TOTAL
Given Received Expected balance
21
that they 'save' in that way in the year prior to their own event. Guests who know they won’t have
further opportunities to meet the organizer may give such that accounts are cleared, preventing one
party from being a net debtor. Although financial calculations are key, it would be misleading to stop
here. Emotional aspects are also crucial, and a detailed example is certainly the best way to illustrate
the intermingling of financial and emotional aspects.
Sivaselvi and her husband Kumaresan organised a housewarming in 2014. Around 750 people came,
most in families, and in total, the organisers received 283 gifts (around one gift per family). The event
cost them around 150 000 INR (mostly food and transport, which was taken care of for distant
guests). They received 192 365 INR as gift (moi panam), which means a “surplus” of around 40,000
INR, that Sivaselvi used to pay off past debts. Gifts in cash ranged from 50 to 3000 INR. Gifts in gold
ranged from a quarter of sovereign to 2.5 sovereigns (from around 5,500 to 55,000 INR). Sivaselvi
explained bitterly that she was expecting a surplus of twice more.
Out of the 283 givers, 60 belong to the circle of her husband (friends and colleagues). She is not
aware of the prior transactions between them and her husband, and thus she is not able to evaluate
their contribution. In the list, 141 givers are marked with a cross: she considers that for them,
accounts are closed: in a few cases, these are elderly people who won’t have any other ceremonies
in the future; in most cases, they are people she doesn't want to deal with in the future because they
gave too little. For the remainder (82), accounts are still open and in most cases she considers that
she received less than what she gave in the past, but in a number of cases for good reasons. First, this
was a housewarming ceremony: this is not a systematic practice, many don’t do it, thus there are no
strict rules for gifts (as observed in marriages and puberty ceremonies for instance) and those who
don’t organise housewarmings themselves are tempted to give little. People give, but will give less in
the future for more “formal” events such as puberty ceremonies or marriages. In the case of
Sivaselvi, she has two children, as yet unmarried. Her 24-‐year-‐old son holds a master degree. He will
get married soon and people know. Her daughter, 21 years old, is also of marriageable age but may
not do so since she is physically handicapped (she uses a wheelchair). Amounts given at the time of
22
the housewarming take into account these two (potential) forthcoming events. For instance,
Rajendran gave 500 INR, while Sivaselvi gave him 3000 INR a few years back for a pilgrimage. Pazhani
gave her 1001 INR, while Sivaselvi gave her 1000 INR 5 years back for a marriage and 500 INR two
years back for a puberty ceremony. In both cases, Sivaselvi is expecting them to give some sort of
balance at the time of the marriage of her children. But the fact that her daughter may not get
married is a source of concern. Notwithstanding the future of her daughter, which is of course the
most worrying issue, Sivaselvi may lose money. But she thinks that her closest relations are aware of
this and may compensate by giving her more for her son’s marriage.
Coming back to the housewarming, the greatest disappointments were her three brothers-‐in-‐law.
She was expecting something like 35,000/40,000 INR (in gold), in line with what she gave them in the
past (the three brothers live together in the same house and had a housewarming four years back).
They gave only one sovereign of gold (with costs around 22,000 at the time of the ceremony) and she
experienced this as an insult. On her own side by contrast, her brothers have been rather generous:
her elder brother gave 2.5 sovereign and the younger 1 sovereign. Her older brother gave much
more than what he had received from her in the past. Not only is he her brother, which entails
specific obligations, but his gesture is also in line with a forthcoming event: their respective children
(her son and his daughter) will get married together (following the rule of cross-‐cousin marriage,
widespread in Tamil Nadu). The generosity of her two brothers (although one of them, the younger
one, is “economically down” as she says) also results from a deliberate bid to do “better” than her
brothers-‐in-‐law. As often, ceremonies are an opportunity for comparison and competition between
lineages. As she told us, “he [one of her brothers] wants to show the strength of my mothers’ side.
The idea is to show to my husband’s family that they’re doing better. The status of my husband has
fallen with this event. People can easily laugh at my husband’s family”, and her husband is also
“down” in front of her. He “cannot ask for anything” she says.
She interprets her brother-‐in-‐laws' behaviour as a continuity of their previous relations, which have
been conflictual for some time. Her marriage was a “love-‐marriage” and she has always felt it was
23
never accepted, despite many efforts to help and support them. While discussing with her husband,
whom she blames for the greediness of his brothers, she comes to find out that he hasn’t been very
generous with them on various occasions, which might partly explain their behaviour. But she
remains humiliated and her reaction was immediate: when her sister-‐in-‐law was hospitalized soon
after the housewarming, she did not even care to visit her. Her relationship is also quite tense with
her own husband.
Another disappointment came from a close friend (Punitha), with whom relations have become more
distant recently. Punitha criticizes Sivaselvi for moving around too freely, in circumstances where
women’s mobility remains highly restricted. Sivaselvi had given her 2000 INR on various occasions in
the past and Punitha gave her exactly the same amount. She does not have any upcoming event,
while Sivaselvi will have one or two marriages soon. For Sivaselvi the meaning is clear: Punitha
“repaid the entire amount at once” and this means that she wants to stop their relationship. Sivaselvi
is also very upset with Daniel Babu: he gave exactly the same amount she had given four years back,
while his position has greatly improved since then: she thinks he should have done more. What
comes into play here in her judgment is the economic position of the giver: he gave too little
compared to his economic status, and someone who is experiencing upward mobility is expected to
be more generous with his circle.
Some guests have given very little, but she knows their difficulties and she even feels “pity” for them.
Hence this lady -‐ Parvathy -‐ who gave 200 INR, while Sivaselvi had given her 1000 INR fifteen years
back (daughter’s marriage), and 500 eight years back (housewarming); Sivaselvi tells us that
Parvathy is very poor, she is a widow, she has no income and depends on her son. He came and gave
the 200 INR. Sivaselvi also explains that Parvathy’s son does not necessarily have the memory of past
exchanges. Another good friend, Rose, gave 101 INR, while Sivaselvi had given her 500 INR on various
occasions over the last twenty years. But here, too, she feels more compassion than resentment.
Rose’s husband is physically challenged, and Rose was there from morning to evening to help her out
on the day of the housewarming.
24
These various examples show that moi (gifts) take place in complicated webs of debt which combine
obligations and entitlements, reciprocity, feelings, sentiments and emotions such as humiliation,
jealousy, empathy, compassion and solidarity. Calculations are inseparable from affective ties. They
not only reflect but make and remake affective ties.
Conclusion
The main purpose of this paper has been to demonstrate the crucial role of ceremonial expenses as
relational and long-‐term saving. We have been using the term 'saving', although the practices and
transactions described here could also be considered as expenses, consumption, investment, debt,
etc. and it is certainly of no value to assign a precise definition to each category. To continue with
economic terminology, ceremonial expenses can most properly be ascribed as 'investment-‐saving',
because they imply long-‐term plans and some sort of return. But this does not exclude precautionary
concerns, since the relations underpinning ceremonial gifts are all potential safety nets. What comes
out clearly from our case study is that economic transactions are social transactions and it is
pointless to disentangle them. Clearly too, despite widespread biases among many economists and
development practitioners, the poor have long-‐term concerns, but these are focused on the creation
or maintenance of wealth understood in a broad sense. It includes material wealth as well as wealth
"in people" (Guyer 1997) and "investment in others" (Berry 1989).
We are not looking to idealise these practices, which both reflect and strengthen pre-‐existing
inequalities along various lines, especially gender, but also caste and class lines. Our point is that
those dynamics and logics cannot be ignored if we truly wish to design adequate and fair financial
services. For the moment, in the context of our study, the rural poor don’t use bank saving accounts
as it goes against a vision of wealth that constantly circulates. Our research highlights an immense
pooling of wealth, the value of which precisely comes from the fact that it constantly circulates.
Given the importance of wealth circulation, one may imagine that in the near future, mobile money
25
transfers will be successful and will be used for ceremonies, as has already been observed in Kenya
(Kusimba et al. no date).
What are the policy implications of this research? The answer is not easy, both because observed
practices draw on a world vision which is quite far from the world vision banks promote (in short,
atomised individuals versus interdependent individuals; stored and accumulated wealth versus
circulating wealth, etc.), while being based on relations that combine solidarity and hierarchy. The
key question, and one which would deserve further research, is how technology, here digital finance,
could be used to fight specific form of inequalities, notably gender inequalities in this case. It would
of course be naïve to imagine that technology could fight the dowry system, but it is certainly
possible to think about a fair and democratic use of digital finance. This is what Mesfin et al (2012)
has done for Ethiopia. Drawing on a fine-‐grained ethnography of local rules and practices of gift-‐
giving these suggest various tricks that could allow digital finance not only to adapt to these
complicated and multiple rules, but also to fight inequalities in access such as illiteracy (using specific
applications, for instance).
Whether we like it or not, digital finance is most probably going to invade our daily lives, including in
the most remote areas. Rather than being overtaken, it is urgent to think about the multiple ways of
using it for democratic and equality purposes, especially in terms of gender.
26
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